


A Gray Area

by My_Alter_Ego



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anger, M/M, Mistrust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the beginning of the tumultuous Season 5, Peter and Neal’s anger drives them apart, and then ultimately brings them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gray Area

 

      Being arrested for Senator Pratt’s murder had done something ugly to Peter. It had twisted his perception and his trust of the system that he had sworn to uphold during his tenure with the FBI. Ultimately, the ideals of ethics and integrity that he had espoused had been forever tarnished when the machinations of his partner -- a conman -- were the only thing that set him free. Where was the justice in that? Unfathomably, Peter took his anger and disenchantment at the dichotomy of it all and turned them back onto his CI. If Peter was being honest with himself, Neal became the convenient scapegoat when he was powerless to attack the real root of the problem.

     The relationship between Peter and the man under his supervision was beyond strained. Peter nursed his anger and Neal nursed his hurt, and the once genuine rapport and respect took on the persona of the Cold War of the 1960s. They hardly exchanged the barest of words anymore. After Peter had obtained both a new anklet and a new handler for Neal, all he wanted was distance and deniability. It hadn’t been any easy choice, but one that had to be done if Peter was going to be able to get back to baseline. He had simply allowed himself to get too close to Neal over the years, and Neal had taken advantage of that!

     It had been so easy to fall into that trap and become compromised. Neal was supremely likeable and knew just how to ingratiate himself so that he could breach your walls. In retrospect, Peter knew his fascination with the young man had evolved over time, beginning amidst the three years that he had pursued the conman around the globe. Early on, when he had finally obtained photos of the surprisingly young criminal, Peter became enamored just a bit more. The kid was gorgeous, with a face that simply had no flaws, and a lean, athletic physique to add to the whole perfect package. Peter felt that old pull of animal attraction that he had buried under ten years of marriage to El.

     Peter remembered growing up in a small Upstate New York town. His whole world seemed to have been intertwined with math and baseball, which left little time for interacting with the opposite sex in any meaningful way. If Peter was being honest about it, he was totally inept in the dating department. He just couldn’t come up with the witty remarks or the slick cavalier attitude of a jock to impress the fair sex. Added to that was a painful shyness that he never seemed to outgrow. When he went off to college, Peter was still a virgin.

     What happened next was an epiphany. Peter fell hard for his roommate, an attractive, tranquil Mid-Westerner named Jack. Jack accepted his own homosexuality without any qualms, and wasn’t in the closet regarding his lifestyle choices. He was comfortable in his own skin and didn’t have anything to prove to anyone. That’s what made it so easy to be around him. He never climbed on a soapbox or tried to convert anyone’s thinking or defend his choice. He simply lived his life and was happy. Loving him had been simple and uncomplicated, and he had opened up a whole new world of pleasure for Peter.

     Although Peter adored Jack, to his own shame, Peter never acknowledged him as a lover. Peter knew that he, himself, didn’t have the fortitude to “come out.” Things were still pretty dicey in the 80s on the subject of homosexuality, given the raging AIDS epidemic that petrified even the straight population. Moreover, Peter knew that he just couldn’t face his parents and bare his soul about his life choices. Jack seemed to understand; he would smile and simply accept what Peter alternatively termed caution or cowardice. After graduation, Jack kissed Peter softly, packed his bags, and returned to Wisconsin. There was never again any contact between them. As the years went by, Peter relegated those memories to the back of his mind and thought of Jack less and less as time passed.

     Then El had arrived on the scene, and the attraction that he felt for her, although different from the feeling that he had for his previous lover, was just as real. In an ironic way, she reminded Peter of Jack. Her affection was easy and straightforward. She simply loved unconditionally. She accepted that he had once had a male lover with non-judgmental equanimity. Love was love, regardless of the pairings of the genders. This only endeared her to Peter even more, and his sexual endeavors now became fulfilling and satisfying in a different way. These days he and El now had the solidity of ten years of marriage and the perceptiveness that those years afforded.

     El knew, early on, of Peter’s attraction to the felon that he was chasing. Peter managed to drag him into their bed on a regular basis during the chase, even if that presence was only an 8x10 glossy. She thought that the fascination would pass when Peter had nabbed the guy, and the judge had thrown the book at the first-time offender, sending him to a maximum-security prison.

     Maybe El should have been worried when Peter took on the young man as a consultant almost four years later. Now they would be thrown together during the workday that sometimes lengthened into the night hours as well. But she had met Neal, and she had fallen under his charmingly boyish spell, and delighted in the endearing fact that he seemed to put her on a respectful pedestal. He was so utterly beautiful and so damn sweet, you just couldn’t help being in love with him, even if it was just a little bit. She didn’t perceive him as a threat to her marriage. Maybe she would have if he had been a woman. Then he would have been competition, and maybe El would find herself coming up short in the comparison department. But this unique situation was different. Even if Peter was attracted to his ward, El thought that she could live with that. With ten years worth of wisdom, she knew that Peter, with his noble sensibilities, would never leave her.

     Peter’s attraction for his partner did, indeed, grow. However, he would not jeopardize his position at the Bureau or the work-release contract that the FBI had with Neal. If he acted on his impulses, he could be accused of taking advantage of his supervisory position over the felon relegated to his custody, and Neal could be sent back to prison. Peter simply wouldn’t risk it. Besides, Neal gave no indication that he returned those feelings of erotic attraction.

      Peter had no idea of Neal’s sexual orientation. However, during the many early months of dogged surveillance of his elusive adversary, Peter had taken note of Neal’s steady stream of night visitors—both male and female—until one beautiful, blue-eyed brunette stole his heart and claimed his fidelity. At times, Peter thought that he hated Kate for being “the one,” but he had gotten a firm grip on his emotions back then, and he could do it now. So, the closest Peter allowed himself into Neal’s personal space was a warm hard on the back of his neck or the small of his back. That is until Cape Verde.

     Perhaps it was Peter’s frantic fear for Neal’s safety at the hands of the federal bounty hunter who was pursuing him, or maybe he was just overwhelmed to once again be back in Neal’s orbit, but seeing the beautiful wayward felon did something to Peter’s core. When Neal stood before him, tan and lithe with tousled hair and those mesmerizing sapphire-colored eyes, Peter impulsively gabbed him and held on tight. However, he quickly extricated himself from the young man before his burgeoning erection became obvious. Peter made up his mind right then and there that he would never let Neal leave him ever again.

     Now Peter was thinking that he had been a fool, letting his heart rule his head. He had been turning a blind eye to what he didn’t want to see, and that had to stop. Right now, things were definitely going from bad to worse. Neal’s new handler had been murdered, and the guilt that Peter felt was like an albatross around his neck. He knew in his gut that Neal had not been responsible, but he also felt that Neal was somehow up to his neck on the periphery in this whole scenario. In someway, it all tied in, although Peter had yet to puzzle it out.

     Circumstances reached critical mass when Peter and Neal once more sparred verbally at the office, and the FBI Agent realized that the chasm between them was widening at an alarming rate. Something was imminent, but Peter didn’t have a clue what that was. So, giving in to paranoia that would have made a certain conspiracy theorist proud, Peter asked Jones to keep Neal occupied after lunch for the reminder of the day. He then let himself into Neal’s apartment to do a thorough search for.......well, anything that seemed suspicious. Undoubtedly, June would inform Neal that Peter had been in his loft, but Neal would probably figure that out for himself when he noticed anything that was even remotely out of place. Nonetheless, Peter rationalized that as Neal’s handler, he had the right to toss his place of residence on a whim, just as he could watch his tracking data in real time, if Peter was so inclined.

     Five hours later, Peter’s diligence was rewarded, if you wanted to categorize what he found as rewarding. Behind a small painting was a concealed niche. Inside the cubbyhole were new identity papers for Neal, a hefty wad of cash, and two airline tickets--destination Paraguay--stamped for the day after tomorrow. Peter had no doubt that the second ticket was for Mozzie, that damn irritating little son of a bitch. Too many times, he had been the impetus behind Neal’s bad decisions. Apparently, Mozzie’s influence at this juncture far outweighed Peter’s. That certainly didn’t come as any surprise, given the rift that was tearing handler and CI apart. So, like a panther perched in a tree stalking its prey, Peter awaited Neal’s return home.

     Around six thirty that evening, Peter could hear Neal’s tread on the stairs and he stood up in anticipation. Neal walked in with the top button of his shirt undone and his tie unknotted and dangling from beneath his collar. He had his suit coat slung over his shoulder and a take-out bag of food in his hand. He stopped short when he spied Peter, calmly laid his jacket across the chair, and then nonchalantly placed the take-out bag on the table next to the incriminating passport and airline tickets.

     “Well,” Neal began softly with a sardonic little smile on his face. “It seems that someone has had a busy and productive afternoon.”

     This calm, mocking display of insolence rankled Peter’s nerves that were already festering with Neal’s deceit. Without thinking, he stepped toward his CI menacingly, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and slammed him back against the door he had just entered.

     “You ungrateful little bastard!” Peter spat those words at his partner, his face contorted in rage. “After everything that I have done for you, you’re going to make sure that your last act in our little drama is to ruin my reputation and probably cost me my job. Do you even know how not to use people for your own ends?!”

     Peter had accosted Neal on several occasions in the past, even arresting him twice, and never had the felon ever offered any resistance. He had been compliant and docile, never causing Peter to fear a violent response. This time Neal caught him off-guard. The young man planted the palms of both hands onto Peter’s chest and shoved with a ferocity that matched the blazing anger in his blue eyes.

     “Just who is using who, Peter?” Neal fairly shouted. “Didn’t you get me out of prison so that _**you**_ and your White Collar pals could use my expertise to solve your cases? Aren’t _**you**_ using me to keep your 93% clearance rate? Aren’t _**you**_ using me each and every time that you send me undercover into a nest of pit vipers, with backup that is usually so far out that I could be killed ten times over before they finally show up? I’m at _**your**_ beck and call 24/7. Hell, I’m like the organ grinder’s monkey with a chain around my leg that _**you**_ can yank whenever you want me to perform!”

     Neal had edged away from the door and was breathing hard. Peter had never seen him this angry. But he was irate as well, so he retaliated by slamming Neal back against the door with even greater force this time. For good measure, he grabbed the younger man’s wrists and trapped them on either side of his head.

     “And haven’t _**you**_ gone behind my back at every opportunity to manipulate your own agenda so that you could pull off caper after caper?” Peter demanded to know. “How many times, Neal? How many times?! And you’re doing it now—intending to just disappear right under my nose!”

     Stormy blue eyes bored into Peter’s with an intensity that was paradoxically both frightening and enthralling at the same time. “Peter, if I’m such a disappointment, why didn’t you just walk away after you told me to run? Why did you persist in tracking me down in Cape Verde so that I was front and center in some psychotic bounty hunter’s crosshairs? Why couldn’t you just let go?!”

     The breath caught in Peter’s throat and, in a surreal moment, sudden strange words rose unbidden to his lips. “I couldn’t let you go, Neal ……. because I love you.”

     Before Neal could respond, Peter crushed his lips to the younger man’s, biting until those lips parted and Peter’s thrusting, hungry tongue could follow. He could feel Neal stiffen and freeze in place. When Peter finally drew back, Neal had what Peter could only describe as a stricken look of disbelief. What happened next was like a slow dance. Releasing his captive’s wrists, Peter then pulled him into an embrace, using firm arms to press the hard, lean body into his. With one hand on the back of Neal’s head, he again brought his lips to the other man’s. But this time the kiss was softer, more sensual and slower. His tongue again slid over Neal’s as he sucked and teased. He inhaled Neal’s scent, felt the warmth of his chest, even felt his accelerated heart beat through the thin material of his shirt. Peter’s passion was growing and his body was responding. Neal couldn’t help but feel his erection as Peter held him close.

     Slowly, Peter became aware that the tension was bleeding away from Neal’s body. He tried to downplay his astonishment as he felt the young man mold himself into Peter and return the embrace. Another deeper, more erotic kiss sent them both tumbling to the nearby bed, tearing off each other’s clothes on the way. Neal’s nimble fingers were at work on Peter’s shirt buttons while Peter clumsily worked Neal’s belt buckle. Shoes, socks, boxers and briefs flew across the room with abandon. Eventually, Peter was able to feast his eyes on the perfectly toned and beautiful body that complimented that handsome face. Neal was perfection everywhere.

     Once Peter had Neal beneath him on the bed, he took what he had been denying himself for years. He slowed the tempo down a notch so that he could revel in the moment and make it last. He explored every inch of the young man’s body. He traced the shell of an ear with his tongue, then bit and sucked on the pulse point below it. Apparently, this was a hot spot for Neal since his response was to arch up slightly from the bed and moan softly. Peter found other erogenous triggers—nipples that were distended into tight nubs, and a navel that his tongue delved into causing goose bumps to rise up on Neal’s skin. Years before, Jack had taught him to be a patient and giving lover who pleased and excited his partner. Everything now came back like riding a bike.

     Peter continued his exploration and it seemed that Neal reveled in his touch. He writhed as Peter ran his hands down a smooth chest and taut abdominal muscles. He held his breath as Peter kneaded his hips and came to rest on his muscular thighs. It was then that Peter felt the small, raised scar from the bullet Neal had taken in Cape Verde. It brought him up short, but Neal just smiled and pulled Peter back into an embrace.

     While renewing an assault on Neal’s mouth, Peter let his right hand trail down to grip the younger man’s penis, turgid and hot. This elicited a hiss of pleasure from Neal, and Peter intensified the heat by pulling lightly on his scrotum. His finger then reached behind the sac and ran lightly over the puckered ring of muscle. Again, Neal lay submissively, allowing Peter to do anything to his body. Neal’s fierce arousal lay testament to the desire for the ministrations to continue.

     Peter then stretched up to reach the drawer in the table that was situated next to the bed. After searching Neal’s apartment at length, he knew where everything was located, including condoms and lubricant. With a slicked up finger, he slowly invaded Neal’s depths and found the young man tight around the intrusion. Methodically, he slowly worked the ring of muscle until a second finger could be introduced. It was then that he scissored back and forth until he was able to reach the prostate and stroke it softly. Neal was now reduced to making guttural, incoherent sounds of pleasure. Patiently, Peter continued to stretch and massage until a third finger breached Neal’s heat. He had brought the younger man to the brink of ejaculation several times, but stopped his climax by griping the base of his penis with a firm hand. Peter had much more hedonistic plans in mind before this was over.

     Finally, with his own erection almost painful, Peter turned Neal onto his stomach. He then proceeded to roll on a condom that he thoroughly coated with lube. “Get onto your knees, Neal,” he commanded in a raspy voice that didn’t even sound like his own. The young man complied, spreading his legs so that Peter could part the rounded buttocks and place the tip of his own penis at the entrance of Neal’s orifice. He took a firm hold of Neal’s hips and began his invasion, slowly and carefully, waiting for the ring of muscle to relax against the onslaught. Neal had the sheet fisted in both hands, and, as Peter continued to advance with steady, short strokes, the young man’s knuckles whitened and his erection flagged.

     With one last firm push, Peter was balls deep into the warmth and he collapsed on top of Neal, sending both of them flat against the bed. Peter lay still for a minute, allowing Neal’s discomfort to subside somewhat. “Okay?” he whispered into the young man’s ear. He felt rather than saw Neal nod his head. Peter then turned them both to the side so that he could reach around and rub Neal’s now semi-hard penis back into full erection. The tempo of his strokes into Neal was matched by the rhythm of his curled fist. Sweat had broken out on the back of Neal’s neck, and Peter used his tongue to sensually lick the saltiness away. The sex was primal and satisfying as they both swayed to a rhythm as old as time.

     Without warning, Peter withdrew and pulled Neal onto his back. “I want to see your face when you come for me,” he whispered commandingly to the young man as he pulled Neal’s knee up and re-entered him with a powerful thrust. Now they rocked in earnest as Peter gripped Neal’s hands rather than his wrists. He felt like he needed to hold onto this dazzling blaze of light and never let him get away. Both found a matching rhythm and the thrusting increased in intensity as Peter prodded that erotic spot deep within Neal’s body. Peter smothered his partner’s moans with wet, open-mouthed kisses that only served to increase his desire to possess everything that lay beneath him.

     Almost without warning, Neal’s need for release reached a crescendo. Arching his back, he spurted hot, white ribbons of ejaculate between them. As his body shuddered during his climax, Peter reveled in the look of tortured ecstasy that now transformed Neal’s features. That only served to send Peter into a frenzy of his own, as he drove hard, without mercy, into the younger man’s body searching for his own bliss. He came with a shout, muscles taut for just a second before he then was shivering with pleasure. Slowly he withdrew from Neal’s warmth and stretched his length beside the smaller man. Both were panting and spent. Eventually a lassitude claimed them both as they lay side by side.

     When the planet had once again stopped spinning, Peter removed the condom and used the edge of the sheet to clean them up. Then he propped his head on one hand and trailed the other leisurely down the length of Neal’s body. “This makes a difference, Neal. This makes us different,” he said quietly.

     Neal turned his head, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t try and con a conman, Peter.”

     Peter startled at this reply as if Neal had slapped him. “What do you mean by that? Do you think that what just happened between us was something that I engineered to keep a hold on you….to continue to use you?”

     Neal looked deep into Peter’s eyes and smiled wistfully. “Maybe I misspoke. Maybe you’re just trying to con yourself into believing that everything is different, that we aren’t whom we really are. Remember Cape Verde? I told you then that there was really only one way that this thing between us would end, and it very definitely cannot be transformed into a different outcome here in this bed. There are others to consider besides just you and me and what we want. I have stolen a lot of things in my time; if I wanted something, I took it. But there are lines I just will not cross. I will not steal from Elizabeth. I could never hurt her like that.” Left unspoken were the words..... _and I could never hurt you._

     “El would understand,” Peter argued emphatically. “I know that she would accept the idea of me and you as long as our marriage continued. She loves you, too, Neal. We could make it work somehow.” Peter hated the sound of his own voice, which had now taken on a wheedling tone.

     “Go home to your wife, Peter,” Neal said quietly as he placed a soft kiss on Peter’s frowning lips.

     Time seemed to stop for a heartbeat. Then, without another word uttered between the two, Peter quickly dressed and walked out into the hallway, softly pulling the door closed behind him. He hadn’t dared to look back. If he had taken just that extra glance, he would have seen the hot tears making rivulets down Neal’s face. But he just never saw any of that.

     He drove back to Brooklyn with his thoughts all jumbled like tiny pieces of a dismantled jigsaw puzzle. When he reached home, he found El propped up in bed reading a book when he entered the bedroom. She took one look at his face and quietly asked, “What happened?”

     “I was with Neal tonight,” Peter said softly.

     “What did he do now,” El asked, as she made a wry face.

     “No, Hon, I mean that I was ‘with’ Neal tonight. You know how I feel about him, and I took it a step further than I should have. We were so angry with one another, and then all that emotion turned into something else. Now that it’s happened, I’m completely confused about how he feels. He all but threw me out afterwards.” Peter looked both hurt and embarrassed when he finally met his wife’s eyes.

     Oh….OH! Now the light finally dawned for El. She knew that “this” was going to play out eventually at some point in time, but she had tucked the inevitability of the scenario deep down into the recesses of her mind. She felt a little like Scarlett O’Hara declaring nonchalantly, “I’ll worry about that tomorrow!” Looking at her husband now, almost in shock like a witness to a train wreck, she knew that she had to get in touch with her own feelings. She needed to examine where they could go from here.

     El loved her steady, sometimes uptight husband who was capable of such deep devotion and goodness. That he told her what had transpired spoke volumes about their openness with each other. Then she thought of Neal -- brilliant, impetuous Neal -- so alone in this oft times cruel world. He had lost so much in his young life, and yet he doggedly donned his pleasant, conman exterior and smiled in the face of hardships and abandonment. He was a survivor who wore a mask to protect himself. Had Peter’s overture frightened him into thinking that Peter would now see his vulnerabilities and it terrified him?

     El’s thoughts were interrupted, as Peter continued his confession. “I know that he has feelings for me, El. It was more than just about sex. He couldn’t sell that lie, even if he had tried.”

     “Peter, I’ve seen the way that he looks at you…..well, how he used to look at you before this whole thing with his father caused a cataclysm. He respects you. He wants your approval. And he definitely loves you…..even in the manner that played out tonight. I love Neal, too, and if sharing you is part of loving Neal, then that’s okay by me.” There, she had said it! What had impulsively fallen from her lips was the only truth that her heart would accept.

     She enfolded her distraught husband in her warm embrace, and willed her love into him even as her thoughts turned to Neal, alone, on the other side of the city. Eventually, she and her husband slept until the incessant buzz of Peter’s cell phone awakened them just after 5 AM. The Marshals Service informed Peter that Neal had cut his anklet and was in the wind.

     “Why would he do this, El? If he had any feelings for me, why would he do this?” Peter felt wretched, and knew, without thinking about it, that he could never again hunt down this young man. There was just no way that he could relegate that bright comet of light to the dark depths of a prison. If he were caught, this time it would be for life!

     “I really thought that it would make a difference…...make the two of us different.” Peter continued forlornly. “Does he really hate me? Has he been pretending the whole time?”

     El, with the innate wisdom that women seemed to be born with, answered softly, “He doesn’t hate you, Peter. He is trying to protect you in the only way that he can. He is doing what he has always done……trying to safeguard those that he cares about.”

     El took Peter’s bewildered face in her hands and stated with total certainty, “Neal took himself out of your life ‘ _ **because**_ ’ he loved you. If you love him enough, you’ll let him go.”


End file.
